


these late birthday presents of mine

by sunnysizhui



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Character Study, Fluff, Hunter x Hunter 1999, Light Angst, basically my take on the extra from whale island in hxh 1999, killua-centric, no beta i believe in the power of killugon, to cure any of my grammatical or stylistic issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:54:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27932671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnysizhui/pseuds/sunnysizhui
Summary: His gift every year is another torture method that’s stopped working. For his twelfth birthday, he swears to himself that his fingers will never hurt him anymore.But on Whale Island, with Mito staring at him with an unreadable expression in her eyes, one arm bleeding sluggishly from his nails, his hands ache like never before.
Relationships: Gon Freecs & Killua Zoldyck
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	these late birthday presents of mine

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warnings: light mentions of blood and gore
> 
> a week ago or so I impulsively decided to rewatch hxh 2011 and inevitably fell back into the hellhole and before I knew it I had finished hxh 1999 and the manga in less than four days. so. here's the product of that insanity. enjoy!

Killua isn’t unfamiliar with the feeling of his fingernails tightening into claws. It’s something he’s been trained to do since he was a child. If he presses down on his palm hard enough he can imagine it’s his father’s tight grip around his wrist, forcing the body transformation down his arm as he twitches and tries to wrench free. It doesn’t bother him anymore. He feels the pain, of course. He’s not numb to the way his fingers break and reform into weapons. It just doesn’t hurt as much anymore. Compared to electric shocks, it’s nothing. He marks his birthdays not with an age, but how much higher his pain tolerance has become. His gift every year is another torture method that’s stopped working. For his twelfth birthday, he swears to himself that his fingers will never hurt him anymore. 

But on Whale Island, with Mito staring at him with an unreadable expression in her eyes, one arm bleeding sluggishly from his nails, his hands ache like never before. 

“We can’t do anything for the cub,” he bites, his voice cold and foreign. He gestures at the foxbear, which lays in a pool of blood induced by a poacher’s spear. Its vitals must have been run through by the sharp point based on how listless it looks. “Listen to its breathing! At least let me put it out of its misery.” 

Gon doesn’t loosen his grip on his arms. His eyes are pure gold, resolute and set in stone like a diamond fixed to a ring. It’s the look he gives his opponents when he wants something from them and won’t let go until he gets it. Hanzo, Hisoka, other people from the Hunter Exam. Not to Killua. Never to Killua. “It’ll be okay because we can help it,” he insists. “We have to try. It’s the least it deserves.” 

“I know you can’t do it yourself so let me do it for you - let  _ go _ !” Killua shouts, throwing both Gon and Mito off their feet. His knees are scraped from their run away from the poachers with the cub cradled in their arms. He can still smell the musky strength of its fur against his skin, the scent of death clinging to its body. “There’s no point in living this close to death.”

The foxbear cub lets out a small whine, its frail body shaking weakly on the table. So this is all Killua can do, in the end. Once again, he’s killing something. But this is a  _ good  _ sort of killing, he reasons with himself - he’s putting it out of its misery, he’s stopping its pain and that’s good. Right? It’s better than living like him - one step away from death, another foot still stuck in the gates of the Zoldyck estate. He of all people knows how useless it is to live when you’re in constant pain. It’s one of the reasons he gifts himself pain tolerance every birthday. The less he feels, the better off he is. It must be the same for everyone else. He flexes his hand and scans the cub for its vital points. 

And then Mito gets to her feet, the same angry gleam in her eyes as Gon’s, and slaps him across the face. Normally it’d feel like a fly brushing his face. It shouldn’t even tickle him. But it hurts -  _ it hurts _ and his face is stinging and he knows he’s failed. He’s lost again. 

“How can you think trying to save a life is stupid?” she says angrily. “It has a life and you don’t have the right to take it away. Look at it! It’s still fighting to survive. For some people, the will to live isn’t always enough - you can’t be so eager to end it. Hasn’t - “ her voice breaks on the last syllable. “Hasn’t anyone taught you how precious life is?” 

_ No, _ Killua wants to say. _ I wasn’t taught that. I was taught pain and I was taught how to kill. I was taught that death was better than living - no, that you can’t live without pain, that every year that passes is just another year you’ve wasted your time. Here they give you bandages and gloves and tell you to heal the foxbear cubs. The bandages for the wounds, the gloves to keep them clean. Where I grew up no one told me to patch up the family dogs, the butlers bleeding from their eyes. I was told to snap their necks, not fix them. The gloves were so my hands didn’t get dirty (no Zoldyck will touch the filthy blood of a servant that’s how we were raised). They didn’t teach me so please, please _ \- 

He lowers his hand. It’s shaking now, fingers back to normal, and he realizes the weight of his actions all too late. He can only imagine what he looks like to Mito. A twelve year old boy with claws for hands, his eyes chipped pieces of ice. Her arm is still bleeding. She looks angry - confused, maybe even worried - but there’s no hatred in her eyes. There’s no hatred and it makes Killua sick to his stomach. Hate would be easier, like Hanzo said. Hatred is something he’s used to. Fear is something he’s grown up with. But this is something he doesn’t understand - the utter lack of those two emotions when they should be there. He almost wants to shake Gon and his aunt.  _ Why aren’t you afraid of me?  _ He wants to scream.  _ Why don’t you hate me? I’m a monster, I have your blood on my hands, I almost killed an animal - an animal, that’s all I am, why won’t you look down on me?  _

“Ever since I was a child,” he starts. His voice skips through his throat like a slick stone on a riverbank. “The only thing I was taught was to kill.” He bites his tongue there. He’s said enough based on the way Gon’s eyes widen minutely, his breath shattering on his tongue. Killua swallows dryly and looks away. He knew he would mess up at some point when he agreed to tag along with Gon to his home. He didn’t deserve it and it shows and he knows it was all too good to be true. He’s broken his birthday promise to himself. His hands throb like they’ve been cut through the muscle and bone. “I’m - “ 

_ Stop this _

Gon doesn’t hear his last fragile attempt at an apology. Something flickers to life in his eyes and he drags Killua to the table again. “No - there is a way!” he says excitedly. He brightens like sunshine and once again Killua has to look away, his fingers trembling minutely. He doesn’t deserve this. “We can use Nen to save it!” 

Killua’s eyes widen.  _ Of course, I didn’t think of that, of course I didn’t, you only know how to kill, that’s all you’ll ever know  _ \- “You’re right,” he breathes. His mind races, picking at the possibilities. He finds something. “You’re right - “ 

“It’s just like what Wing-san told us - every living thing has aura, we just need to transmit some to the foxbear - “ 

He nods furiously. Gon has figured it out again and he can feel his heart beating faster, blood rushing through his body as he holds his hands gently over the cub. He hesitates a fraction of a second - the position is too much like the one he assumed just minutes ago, bloodlust tumbling off him like plumes of smoke. He shakes his head sharply. He’s not going to do that. This time, his heart is racing because he’s going to save someone, not kill them. It’s not a bad feeling at all. 

“Do it in small amounts,” he warns, feeling Gon’s nen erupt to life by his side. “We don’t want to overwhelm it with too much aura.”

“Got it!” 

Killua steadies his breath and lets the viscous feeling of aura slip though his arms and past the tips of his fingers. It has the same heavy weight of bloodlust but it feels gentler on his skin, almost soothing him as he passes it through the foxbear cub. The sensation is unfamiliar and he almost flinches as the foxbear lets out a sigh and turns over unconsciously. He flicks a quick, nervous glance at Gon. 

“Am I…” he whispers, like his voice will disturb the healing process. “Am I doing this right?”

Gon’s eyes are shining with the reflection of his aura. “Doing what right?” 

“Healing someone?” 

“Oh, that,” Gon says. The line of his mouth softens ever so slightly. “You’re doing fine, Killua. I always knew you weren’t really a killer at heart.” 

Killua opens his mouth to argue but finds his throat is lodged, his heart hammering against the front of his chest. He lowers his gaze and waits until the cub looks like it’ll live and then steps away. There’s a breath waiting under his tongue, he notices, and he lets it out, the line of his shoulders relaxing slightly. He can see Mito lingering in the corners of his vision. 

“If we let it rest overnight and clean its wounds it should recover soon,” he says. He keeps his voice flat. “I’ll - I’ll go for now.”

Gon lifts his head as the flow of his aura tapers away. “Why would you leave, Killua?” he asks curiously. His eyes show none of the ferocity from before. “You saved it.”

“I just followed what you told me to do.” 

“That doesn’t mean you didn’t help,” Gon says, frowning slightly. “You showed me how to heal it properly. Otherwise, I might have overwhelmed it with too much aura and hurt it.”

“Don’t - “ Killua bites his tongue. “Never mind. Just - I’m glad it’s alright now. Let’s go to sleep now.” He turns on his heel. “I’ll be in bed.”

Gon opens his mouth but closes it just as abruptly, as if reconsidering his words. He gives Killua a slight nod before he focuses his attention back to the foxbear cub. “Rest well, Killua.”

_ Right _ , Killua thinks to himself.  _ Rest well, murderer. Sleep gently in your bed knowing you almost killed another innocent creature. Sweet dreams, the monster under my bed.  _

The sun is painting the sky gold when he wakes from his position on the ground and crawls silently into bed, taking care not to wake Gon. It’s selfish, but he finds he can’t live without warmth anymore. For all of the birthdays that have passed by successfully, he’s only gotten weaker over time. It’s the price he has to pay for friendship, probably.

He clenches his fist and holds it over the sun shining through the window. It doesn’t matter to him anymore. For all the mistakes he’s made since he met Gon he can’t help but stay and keep on falling, his feet tripping over themselves in ways that shouldn’t be possible for a trained assassin, his eyes always on one person, on one hand outstretched to him through the inky darkness. Gon was the best birthday present he ever received but it was one that came without pain. So of course he didn’t deserve it. So of course he’s destroyed it. 

Killua eases into the softness of the bed guiltily. His eyes sting.  _ I’m sorry _ , he thinks.  _ I’m sorry. I can’t leave.  _

The sun burns holes into his back. 

Mito eases open the door. “Good morning, boys!” she calls gently, reaching over the bed to briskly shake Gon awake. She doesn’t afford the same treatment to Killua, probably aware her touch will make him jump. Killua swallows down the taste of guilt in his throat and pretends to yawn, stretching his arms above his head. His skin is prickling.

_ Or maybe she just doesn’t want to touch you after what you did yesterday, what mother would dare get near a demon, a child with claws under his skin  _

“Good morning, Mito-san!” Gon says cheerfully, his speech blurred slightly with sleep. He rubs his eyes. “Killua, did you sleep well?”

Killua flushes. “Why would you ask, idiot? I woke up here, didn’t I?” 

Gon lets out a hum as he rolls out of bed and gropes around half consciously for his shirt. “That’s true,” he says blearily. “It’s so much easier to relax on Whale Island, isn’t it?”

“That’s not what I - “ Killua pauses. He’s not  _ wrong _ ; Killua didn’t sleep at all, but he couldn’t deny how much more peaceful his night passed when the only sounds that caught his attention were the waves crashing gently on the rocks and the birds starting their day before the sun was fully in the sky. His cheeks heat up suddenly and he busies himself with hurrying to the bathroom. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

Gon pops his head through the door while he’s getting his toothbrush out. “It doesn’t seem like that,” he says. “You’ve been off since last night.” 

“I said it doesn’t matter,” Killua says shortly. “The foxbear cub is fine, we’re going to return it to its parents, everything proceeds as normal. Isn’t that good enough?”

“It’s not good if you’re not feeling well.”

Killua loosens his grip on his toothbrush. “I never said I wasn’t feeling well.”

“You’ve gotten worse at hiding your feelings.”

“Maybe you’ve just gotten more perceptive.” 

Gon gasps dramatically. “Killua praising me? Are you sure you aren’t still asleep?”

Killua lets a laugh bubble through the toothpaste foam in his mouth. “Idiot.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it though?” Gon squeezes an unnecessary amount of toothpaste onto his brush. “We don’t hate you for what you did.” 

A chain worms down his chest and wraps itself around his heart. Killua suppresses the urge to choke and rinses out his mouth. 

“It’s not necessary,” he says quietly. He’s not ready to talk about it. Not yet, when he can still feel his fingers pulsing with heat from last night’s transformation. “Can we go downstairs now? I can smell Mito-san’s cooking.”

Gon gives him a small smile. It’s different from his usual grins, but it doesn’t fail to knock the breath out of Killua’s chest. “Of course,” he says. “Whatever you want, Killua.” 

The scariest part is approaching Mito. He had hurt her, after all, and there was no telling how she would react. Worst case scenario, she’d be furious and would throw him off Whale Island. It was what he deserved, all things considered. 

It doesn’t mean he wants it, though. He’s certainly gotten more selfish recently. 

Breakfast passes under the warm glow of the sun. Gon and Mito are surprisingly unchanged from last night and interact with Killua as normal, insisting he eats more servings and refilling his cup before he can even ask. It’s nice, but it’s not right. They should be mad. He’d be less scared if they just yelled at him and showed their real feelings; at least he’d know where the line is, where he has to stop before he gets hurt. He has to physically dig his nails into his leg to stop it from shaking. 

He knows, however, that the Freecss family is different from the Zoldycks. They don’t use violence here for punishment. They don’t beat people bloody to teach them lessons; instead of breaking their hands, they hold them in their own and guide them to the right places. It’s completely foreign to him, and when he puts his utensils down, he realizes that his whole body is shaking minutely. 

“Ah, that was so good!” Gon sighs contentedly, happily chewing through the last of a once-massive pancake stack. “Mito-san, can Killua and I go out now?” 

Mito lets out an exasperated huff and clears his sticky plate off the table. “If you insist,” she sighs. “Stay safe, alright? And make sure the foxbear cub is calm before you try and pick it up.'' She gives them a warm smile - and in a movement so gentle Killua doesn’t even flinch, bundles them into a firm hug for a second. “Don’t stay out too long.”

_ She’s so gentle _ , Killua thinks dazedly. He barely registers Gon’s arms wrapping around them to strengthen the hug.  _ I couldn’t dodge even if I tried.  _

Mito lets go of them after a moment and turns to the sink to start washing the dishes. “Ah - Killua,” she says, breaking him out of the white noise in his head. “Don’t apologize, okay? Just go and have fun. You deserve it.” 

_ I don’t _ , Killua almost says, but Gon’s grip is firm on his wrist and he lets his friend drag him out of the house. His smile is so big and genuine and comforting that he can’t help but smile back helplessly.  _ I don’t deserve this at all, I don’t deserve any of this _ \- 

“I can practically hear you thinking,” Gon complains loudly. He smacks him on the head with one hand, the other one holding the sleeping cub. “Stop worrying about it, okay? Let’s hurry up and return the cub so we can go fishing. I still have to beat you in our competition!” 

Killua lets out a breath. His heart shudders in his chest, but it’s not the same sensation he feels when he’s being electrocuted or when his hands rip themselves into weapons. It’s a good sort of jump, one that makes his chest feel full of light and so much air he can barely breathe, and for once he doesn’t stop the laugh that sits comfortably on his tongue. He lets it blossom in the air and open fully. 

“You wish you could beat me,” he says, already crouching into a running position. “Are you coming?” 

Gon’s face stretches into a smile. “Always,” he says. “Let’s go.”

_ Happy birthday, _ Killua tells himself.  _ Here’s to another year with you.  _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> once again you can tell i have no idea how to write endings but I hope you enjoyed! find me on twt @MlKAC0RE for multifandom shitposting!! thank you for reading <3


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